


In Bocca Al Lupo

by Corvin



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, M/M, Minor Character Death, Werewolves, slight-beast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 17:37:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1096667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvin/pseuds/Corvin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During what was supposed to be a romantic honeymoon, Arthur and Eames can't seem to catch a break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Bocca Al Lupo

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas Jesusmaryandjosephgordon-levitt! I was your secret santa :"D

The working streetlights were few and far between. The only light in the alleys between the buildings came from the full moon as it appeared and disappeared behind the heavy clouds. Arthur watched the fog of his breath disappear up into the sky, and he readjusted his scarf. It was a cold night, and he still had several blocks to go before he reached the hotel.

 

The city was mostly asleep where he walked. Every so often Arthur would see the odd lit window in the tall silhouettes of the buildings, but no one else on the streets-- except of course, the creatures that were following him.

 

From what he could tell, it was a group of three, trailing him from about half a block back. They’d been following him from the little mart where he purchased some snacks. He’d been planning on an embarrassingly sappy movie and needed just the right amount of chocolate.

 

Arthur heard their footsteps getting closer and closer, until they were only a few feet away. Instead of running, he ducked into an alley way and threw down his grocery bag. He turned around and sure enough, three large figures stood at the mouth of the alley, grinning at him with eyes that flashed gold and silver.

 

“ _This won’t end well for you, pup,_ ” one of them growled in German that was slurred by growing fangs.

 

“ _No_ ,” Arthur smirked, “ _this won’t end well for_ you.”

 

Two of them dropped, dead before they hit the ground, but after they registered Arthur pulling pistols. They were specially made with obscenely expensive bullets, and they were Arthur’s favorites to hunt with. Nothing said danger to a werewolf like a pair of silver pistols.

 

The third wolf was quick on his feet. He dashed to the side and all but melted into the stark shadows. Arthur could barely react when he saw it moving in his periphery. Its claws barely missed his hands, but they successfully slashed his guns away.

 

Arthur threw himself back against the wall, yanking his glove off just as the wolf hunched into his face. Its eyes were filled with hate, insanity, everything Arthur was used to seeing in these beastly monsters. He let it have a moment, just a quick second of triumph as it loomed over him with bared teeth.

 

Then he put all his force into a hard uppercut. Dense bone and hard muscle that would normally break Arthur’s hand gave way against his silver knuckles. They were impractical, and Arthur’s last resort during fights on his own. The wolf crumpled, giving Arthur just enough time to dive for one of his guns and take the kill shot.

 

It was all over in a matter of minutes, as it should be for a hunter of Arthur’s caliber. But something didn’t seem right. He picked up his other and holstered it while keeping his other one out. Some wolves went down easier than others, but facing an alpha was an unmistakable feeling. Three betas wouldn’t be out carousing, not on a full moon.

 

A jarring howl from the roof answered his thoughts. Arthur didn’t even think as his feet started moving. He had to get out in the open where his movements wouldn’t be impeded by corpses on the ground. If he could get out in the open then he’d have a chance of winning on his own.

 

He was almost past the last body when a clawed hand grabbed him by the back of the neck and threw him back into the alley.

 

The alpha was fully transformed. It stood around seven feet, not big but not small; a beast, a wolf on two legs, the canine response to Bigfoot. Honestly Arthur stopped being impressed by them a long time ago. Unfortunately, even though he wasn’t marveling at the (not so) impressive sight, it was still a greater danger to him than all three of the others had been put together.

 

“I don’t suppose,” he said slowly in careful German, gripping his gun. It would take three shots to take down an alpha, and the first would only piss him off. “That you’d give me a running start?”

 

It snarled, and then lunged.

 

Arthur tried firing off a round, but he was woozy from getting thrown on the cement and the beast was moving too fast to hit.

 

His life flashed before his eyes just as—just as another howl cut through the night.

 

Another wolf dropped into the alley, right on top of the alpha just before it reached Arthur.

 

The wolves rolled, snapping their teeth at each other and snarling ferociously. Arthur staggered to his feet and tried to aim his gun. It was unnecessary; the second wolf quickly and easily overpowered the alpha. He had its throat ripped out before Arthur managed to get a clean shot.

 

He sighed, holstering his gun and used the wall to steady himself as he walked out of the alley. The wolf continued maiming the alpha, crunching through his neck until Arthur heard the plop of the alpha’s head, separated completely from its body. It was overly grotesque, but an effective way to kill wolves without silver.

 

Arthur stared up at the moon, going over the past couple of nights in his mind. “That was the last of them.” He said, as a huge wolf muzzle came to rest on his shoulder. The wolf was practically curled around his back as though he was nearly eight feet tall and covered in blood. “We can tell Mr. Dobusch that his pest problem is taken care of.”

 

The wolf snorted against his ear and tried to snuggle closer. Arthur rolled his eyes and reached back to push it away. Every hunt, the rush of adrenaline would get to him and he’d rut all over Arthur without even changing back. Arthur gently grabbed the large dick that was prodding against his lower back and jerked it a few times. “Later, Eames.”

 

He stepped out from under the whining wolf and picked up his back of snacks. If he hurried, he could still catch the mayor before he went to bed.

 

It was too late to make an actual phone call. Considering the way Eames was panting, Arthur was sure that the mayor, if he did pick up, would end up hearing some unsavory noises. He fired off a quick text and began jogging back towards the hotel. Eames would follow and get in through the window.

 

The concierge gave him a dirty look when he came in disheveled and clutching a plastic bag full of junk food past midnight. Arthur nodded once and went to the elevator. He’d planned on being on better behavior once he and Eames decided to splurge and stay in a nicer place. But hunts came up when they came up; there wasn’t much he could do about it.  

 

Eames was already lounging on the sofa in their main room, naked. He glanced up when Arthur came in and smiled long and slow. “That was close,” he said. His voice had the low, guttural tone that Arthur came recognize meant he wasn’t completely changed back.

 

When Eames stood up it became more apparent. His body wasn’t bigger per se, but it still had a hulking quality. His fingers kept flexing, but didn’t fist because his claws were still out.

 

Arthur dropped the bag and stepped closer. Eames eyes took a silver sheen, but darkened back to normal when his lips pulled back. Arthur stared at Eames still pointed teeth when he said; “You promised you wouldn’t go out alone.”  

 

“I was just getting something to eat.” Arthur flattened his hand on Eames’ stomach, over his tattoo but under a patch of blood from the other alpha. “I only had to guns with me. Do you honestly think I’d go looking for a fight without you?”

 

Eames huffed, but leaned into the touch. His adrenaline was still running high, so it would be easy to make him happy. Arthur stepped in closer and gently kissed the side of Eames’ mouth. He knew his plan worked, because Eames growled and had him pinned against the wall two seconds later.

 

 

\--

 

 

Arthur woke up the next morning with Eames curled around him like the night before, but thankfully back in his human form. Arthur was very understanding of what the full moon did to Eames, but it would be a while yet before he could take a werewolf dick. He was sore enough as it was from a partially transformed Eames’ knot.

 

His phone was on the nightstand beside the bed, ringing Dom’s personal ringtone. Arthur knew he probably shouldn’t answer it. He’d warned everyone that he and Eames weren’t to be contacted until the end of their honeymoon. In fact, he’d threatened under pain of castration, and anyone who knew Arthur knew he wasn’t kidding.

 

If Dom was calling him, it only meant one thing: A job. A high paying job that he knew Arthur wouldn’t be able to pass up. His phone went quiet.

 

Eames snuffled at the back of Arthur’s head and squeezed his waist. “Good morning, husband.” He murmured, his voice was still husky from his transformation. “Who was it?”

 

“Dom.”

 

Eames tensed and squeezed Arthur harder. “Are you going to call him back?”

 

The correct answer was obvious. Calling Dom back would very likely ruin the little bit of peace they were looking forward to. Linz was already a failed vacation considering the feral pack they’re stumbled upon. Easy money: yes. Defeating the purpose of leaving the Were-infested Greece: yes. Arthur huffed and turned his head so he could kiss Eames’ cheek. “This is our time.”

 

The atmosphere lightened considerably. Eames stretched out lazily, and then dragged the blanket up back over them. He peppered kisses all over Arthur’s shoulders as he burrowed them both into the bedding. “Good,” he said. “Then shall we get breakfast, or, as we’re already naked, go for round…what are we on, four?”

 

Arthur snorted and pushed on his face. “I’m going to brush my teeth before anything else.”

 

It was amazing to him that Eames had such better senses, but could very easily ignore something like morning breath.

 

Eames huffed and nipped at Arthur’s wrist. “You’re so cold to me, darling.”

 

“Go shower.”

 

As if it had been waiting for Eames to disappear into the shower, Arthur’s phone began to ring as soon as the bathroom door shut. That time Dom left a voicemail. Then he called back. Arthur stared at the name on the screen, so tempted to answer even though he knew Eames was probably listening over the sound of the shower. He almost put it back down, he really did. But his thumb slipped and he held the phone to his ear. “Why are you calling me?”

 

“It’s about a job.”

 

Arthur met Dom and Mal back when they were a pair of starry eyed newlyweds. Back then Dom had been like the playful big brother Arthur had fantasized about when he was younger. He immediately accepted being pseudo-adopted into their small family. They’d been the ones to teach him about family. And in turn, he’d taught them about hunting.

 

Most people assumed it was Dom who taught Arthur to kill a wolf, but he’d learned to do that the hard way. Trial and error all throughout his teens after a renegade pup had ravaged Arthur’s hometown. No, it had been Arthur who put the gun in Dom’s hand, and he’d been the one to mess everything up. He owed it to Dom to at least hear him out.

 

“What kind of job?” Arthur put it on speakerphone so he wouldn’t have to explain it to Eames later.

 

“Assassination,” Dom said. “Eight million each, plus some perks. I’ll explain it more in Paris in three days.”

 

Arthur glared at the phone. “That’s a little soon, isn’t it?”

 

Dom breathed into the phone. He had a way of doing it, not quite a sigh, to convey that he was shaking his head on the other end. “Time is a factor; otherwise I wouldn’t be bothering you with this.”

 

“Dom,” Arthur rubbed his temple. Why did he always have to try and sound so ominous? “I need details before I drag Eames to France.”

 

“It’s big, but that’s all I can say.” Dom said something else, but was away from the phone. “Mal says she misses you both.”

 

Arthur flinched.

 

“I’ll see you in three days.” Dom hung up, clearly certain that they’d be there.

 

“…Dammit.” Arthur dragged himself out of bad and limped to the bathroom. It was humid and foggy from the hot, hot water Eames preferred to use. He could see his husband, washing methodically, face a sullen frown.

 

He stepped into the shower and leaned against Eames’ back. “We don’t have to go.”

 

Eames snorted, “of course we do.” 

 

Arthur kissed the edge of his tattoo. “I love you.”

 

“Buttering me up isn’t going to make it better.” Eames turned down the water temperature so it wouldn’t burn Arthur. Then he turned around and rested his forehead against Arthur’s. “It’s eight million each, isn’t it?”

 

“I’ll make sure.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry, I overshot, planned way too much I fucked up and well... I'm terrible.


End file.
